Animal Rights
by Krillia
Summary: Dante contemplates the training of her most vicious attack dog while waiting for Envy to complete an errand. Dantecentric ficlet set before the series, but has spoilers for episodes 44 through 51.


Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist is copyright Arakawa Hiromu, Square Enix, Studio Bones and, in America, Funimation. No infringement or disrespect is intended by this non-profit work of fan fiction. This is a work of noncommercial amateur fan fiction; it is not published for profit or material gain. The author and the posters have no intent to infringe any intellectual property rights held by the owners of existing copyrights in Fullmetal Alchemist or its derivative works. The author retains copyright to this work.

**Animal Rights**

Envy left instantly, once he'd been given the proper command. So quickly that the final sounds of the order had not stopped echoing off the chandelier above their head by the time he melted from the room; the reverberations modified slightly by his quiet acknowledgement of her words.

There hadn't been any questions this time, either. He would do exactly what she had told him. Point A, outcome B. That was all that she needed from him. Last time, he'd questioned. Something about the order possibly going awry. Her correction of his behavior had been quick, and swift, and Envy had not left the room that night. This was his second time, his second command. Dante did not enjoy repeating herself. She would not do so again.

It wasn't that she enjoyed hurting him, but something with such sharp teeth needed to be reminded of its master. If she allowed him to question, then there would be consequences later. As of the moment of his creation, she had controlled him completely. She would not lose him now. Envy was His creation, but he was her bait, and the object that would bring about her desires.

Eventually, they had figured out just how much more than an object he was. It had been a bit of an accident, and it was both an amusing diversion and a valuable use of time to shape and mold his talent. He could walk anywhere and disappear. In a few short months, he had been transformed from an object into a tool.

An incredibly useful tool. Another reason why she had to keep an eye on him, to keep him by her. After all, she was the only one who would dare to feed him. In fact, she was really the only one who took any interest in feeding him. After Envy's creation, He had left. If she didn't keep Envy's leash short, the creation might leave her as the creator had. It would be an unfathomable insult to her pride. Something needed to suffer because her Love had left, and it was best that it be the creature that had been left to mock her in his wake. She was trapped, and she would use what she could to get out of the jaws of death. If not Envy, it would have been another. But Envy was…convenient. He had been given to her and, after all these years, he was becoming the perfect pet. A tool, a toy, an object. A being to be manipulated at will and shaped to be perfect: the perfect son with no human failings. She had disliked the son, but the pet, she supposed he was acceptable.

Although she wasn't sure if 'pet' was exactly the correct term either. She considered the term for a moment as she sat by the window of the inn she had chosen, wondering if she would be close enough to hear the screams as her plan was acted out. She hoped not. Just because there were those that needed to feel the misery of death, didn't mean that she wished to be bothered with their screams.

No, she couldn't refer to Envy as a pet. He had not gained the right or the privilege to be called a pet, since it would be a literal untruth. A pet was an animal, by right. Animal, the word formed from the ancient word Anima, meaning soul. But her not-pet had no soul, no anima, and so could not be an animal or a pet. He was just…a tool.

Just outside the window there was a sound, a crash. Scowling, Dante leaned forward just enough to see the creature that darted from the sound, tail clamped firmly between its legs. One of the dirty, filthy beasts that roamed the streets and scrambled for the food left behind by others. Abandoned by their masters, the once-pets roamed the streets at night, always expecting food from the hands that reached for them.

Envy incessantly expected the same, so maybe she could call him a dog. From their first breath, the creatures wished only to serve their human masters. They had no souls, just like her pet. The master spoke, and they acted. She spoke, and Envy acted. If he bit, he was punished. It was an easy thing, to punish him. Besides, she was the only one who knew the proper way to feed him. The proper diet that would keep him alive. Tunnel vision made it so easy for her to teach him, to train him, to keep him.. His need to be wanted, to be kept, was immense and there were so very few people who could keep him fed.

For one, most of what he enjoyed was not food. Certainly, Envy had to be fed, and she was one of the few humans who could give him the trapped souls that he needed. The nourishment that made him just a little bit more useful than the trash, human and beast, that roamed the streets.

But it was nothing so concrete as even a soul, that which Envy needed the most. There was one thing that only she could provide, and that kept Envy bound to her with a collar of steel. She was the only person in the entire world that could give Envy what he needed. Not in the form of red stones or food, but in the thing that she pretended was love. That was the true reason why her dog kept returning - to be given something that he believed might possibly be love. He would allow her to do anything, do anything she asked of him, out of his misplaced belief that she actually liked him for something other than what he was: a tool. A mongrel.

Ultimately, he had become her pet, her well-trained attack dog, her dark beast to send down alleys during the night. It was so simple, so extraordinarily simple. He kept coming back. Love for the mother, respect for the master. She could kick him, and he'd still come back because he was programmed, designed, _created,_ to stay close to his master.

She would wait until he returned, and watch him closely while he returned to the corner where he slept, and then she would go to her bed. Tomorrow, she would decide if he was to be praised, or if they would need to have another training session. She hoped it wouldn't be a training session. She hated buying new clothes, and the dark stains were just unsavory and tended to make people look at her oddly.

**End**

A/N: This was truly painful to write. Special thanks for assistance in placing this in time, and for offering support and advice – an unber-beta, would be the best word for it – goes to JLMack.


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